But tonight the twilight tethers its husk
To October's horizon and bears down, until even here

At the edge of this concrete field,
Epic maze of rust and chain link, there is nowhere to go

That isn't slowly subtracting its ache,
Each long white hour,

From decades of unribboning.

____

My favorite things are ruined and crumbling,
and I'm interested in the aesthetic of impermanence: falling down, rusted,
compromised beauty. This poem is for the former automotive plant of Joshua
Lutz's photograph, which i came across in a Harper's once, and later tracked
down here: [link]